


all i want is you

by dayevsphil



Series: side b: masterpiece theatre (amnesia au timestamps) [11]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayevsphil/pseuds/dayevsphil
Summary: Phil looks at a photo album and thinks about his luck. Amnesia AU timestamp.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: side b: masterpiece theatre (amnesia au timestamps) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559110
Comments: 11
Kudos: 118





	all i want is you

**Author's Note:**

> set between part three and part four of amnesia au, which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1449553) if you're not familiar with it! 
> 
> this is also set directly after yesterday's timestamp, which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21745453)!
> 
> prompted by midnightradio <3
> 
> read and reblog on tumblr [here!](https://dayevsphil.tumblr.com/post/189609737848/all-i-want-is-you)

The albums are next. Phil has no idea where Dan even pulls them out of, because he’d thought he’d snooped in every nook and cranny of their big flat, but suddenly there are half a dozen of them on the kitchen table while Phil makes breakfast.

“You can look at them if you want to,” Dan says, pressing himself along Phil’s back and pausing for a moment. _Is this okay?_ , he’s asking.

Phil leans back into the cuddle for a moment and turns his face expectantly. Dan kisses his cheek right away, and Phil smiles. He knows that it isn’t all that surprising, after how long Dan has known and loved him, but it still gets to him whenever Dan is able to know exactly what he’s nonverbally asking for.

“I really want to,” says Phil. He passes the spatula to Dan. “Finish scrambling my eggs?”

“You’re so annoying,” Dan sighs, but he takes over all the same. Phil steps away from his body heat and takes a moment to admire the view of Dan, sleep-rumpled and shirtless and more or less making Phil breakfast.

He still hasn’t gotten tired of this. The itch under his skin isn’t gone, maybe it never quite will be, but the warmth that spreads through him from simple domestic things is starting to overtake it. 

Phil presses a kiss to Dan’s hair and takes his coffee to the table, looking over the photo albums curiously. They’re thinner than the kind that his mum buys, less bulky. They’d probably fit right in on the shelf above Dan’s piano - _if_ Dan wanted to put them there. Phil has already gotten very familiar with Dan’s particular brand of control freak over the months, but he hadn’t expected the level of hovering that simply hanging up photos elicited. Phil keeps expecting to wake up and find everything in different spots.

There aren’t any dates or titles on the albums themselves, so Phil grabs the stripey blue one and starts flipping through it. It’s something like a punch to the gut to see what are clearly older photos, and Phil thinks that it might have actually been easier to see something more recent.

Seeing his own face isn’t the weird part, really. Phil thinks that it probably should be. Aside from the whole mirror thing, Phil hasn’t been too unsettled by seeing himself in pictures or videos. No, it’s so much weirder to see Dan with long brown hair feathered around his soft face, eyes wider, skin darker, shoulders hunched forward.

“Oh my god,” Phil laughs, flipping the pages and trying to drink in the beautiful sea views until the photos change to something else - a different holiday, maybe - and he’s giggling again at the mess of curls on Dan’s head in some of the photos, the clothing styles that look both familiar and foreign to Phil at the same time, the numerous shots of dogs in various locales. When he gets to the last page, he flips it back to the start to really savour it.

“What’s so funny?” Dan hums, setting Phil’s eggs and his own toast in the space on the table where albums are not. Phil does them both a favour and pushes the closed albums to the side before one of them spills something on a precious memory.

“You’re so cute,” Phil says with a big grin across the table. Dan smiles back, seemingly instinctive, before he rolls his eyes.

“You talking about this guy?” Dan asks. He taps the photo of them on the first page of this album, where he’s sunkissed and dimpley and clinging to Phil like he’s somehow afraid Phil is going to let go of him. “Or the one who made you breakfast? Think very carefully about your answer.”

Phil laughs and reaches over to take Dan’s hand in his. “Both of you. I really lucked out.”

“You lucked out,” Dan scoffs. He squeezes Phil’s fingers and dimples at him. “No such thing as luck, but if there _were_ , I’d be the lucky one.”

It’s probably too soon to make a joke about his brain injury, but Phil is tempted for a moment to say that Dan is luckier than he is in one way; he’s got an intact memory, no matter how faulty his brain might be in other aspects.

“Not about this, you’re not,” Phil says vaguely rather than taking a gamble on a joke that isn’t even that funny. He raises Dan’s hand to his mouth to kiss it, watching the way Dan’s sleepy brown eyes go gooey and soft with it. The affection spills out of his entire being, and sometimes that’s too much for Phil to handle.

This morning, though, he loves it. He wants to sunbathe in it, wrap it around himself and bask.

“We should go back sometime,” Phil says, looking back down at the page of photos. The scenery is incredible. If he had to guess, he'd say that they're somewhere in the Caribbean in this part of their lives. He's somehow jealous of himself - he wants Dan, sunkissed and dimpley and clingy, wants to be able to kiss him and whine about the sunburn he's sure to get while Dan laughs at him. “To any of these places, really.” 

“Sure,” Dan murmurs. “Put that away before you get egg on it, love.”

“Alright,” says Phil. He uses his free hand to close the album and drop it on top of the others. He can’t wait to see what else is waiting for him in those pages, wants to tear into all of it immediately. He’s never been very good at savouring things.

He thinks he can wait. Dan is gorgeous and warm and here, right now, and Phil is going to do his best to savour that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to cat & chicken as always!!


End file.
